Blood
by Erithil
Summary: A little ZoroSanji shounen-ai fun. Because Zoro is bad at showing concern, and even worse at hiding it.


Awful plot and truckload of stupidity ahead. Be warned.

Blood

Disclaimer: One Piece and all characters mentioned are created by Eiichiro Oda. The fault of silliness and OOCness is entirely mine.

The first thing he noticed when he came on board was how quiet the ship was. They had dropped anchor at the secluded bay late that morning and the others were probably still out somewhere on the island, exploring the woods or the town beyond. Well, it appeared that he was the first one back.

The midday sun was sweltering, combined with the tropical island's humid climate made it too hot to train. Zoro yawned widely, deciding to go below deck for a nap. That was when he noticed a strange dark pool on deck, near the railing, just beside the gangplank. Crouching down, he touched it with tentative fingers and took a sniff.

It was blood. Fresh blood.

Instantly, he was alert and wary. His hand went to the swords by his side and he swept his eyes across the ship. They had left the cook to mind the ship but Sanji was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the ship seemed deserted. He frowned. The silence suddenly seemed unnatural, almost deafening to his ears.

There was trail leading away from the pool of blood, drips and splatters interspersed with bloody shoe prints that went this way and that, as if the person who made them was stumbling, mortally wounded and on the verge of collapse. These were not hoof prints, neither were they from the sandaled feet of Luffy, nor the work boots of Usopp, and the girls always wore heels.

They were prints made by Sanji's hard leather shoes.

His frown deepened as he followed the trail to the kitchen door. There, the drips and splatters ended in another pool of blood. Whoever it was, he was bleeding fast. Fast enough to be dead by now.

Zoro took a deep breath. He could imagine what happened all too easily. Someone must have attacked whilst they were away. The cook might have dispatched them or he might not. At any rate, he was injured. Badly. And he had dragged himself to the galley, the domain he felt most familiar and the safest in.

_Sanji is hurt. Possibly dying. _

He swallowed hard and felt sick.

Slowly, Zoro raised his eyes from the red stains on the deck to eye the closed galley door. The door knob was slick with blood. There was so much blood, too much.

Although from the deserted deck it seemed unlikely any enemy had remained, he decided to be cautious. Drawing one katana, he kicked the door open.

Sanji was standing with one hip resting against the sink, lighting up a cigarette as if he didn't have a care in the world. Zoro would have been relieved if not for the blood all over the kitchen floor and the expression which resembled a grimace of pain on the cook's face. The idiot was panting like he couldn't catch his breath, black jacket gone and tie missing.

The entire front of his blue pinstriped shirt was soaked, purple with blood.

A quick glance around showed him they were alone and no enemy was in sight. Satisfied that there wasn't any immediate danger, he lowered his sword.

"What the shit happened here? Who did this? Let me see…" Before he knew it, he had sheathed his katana and was by the blonde's side, reaching out anxiously to examine the wounds.

They need to stop the bleeding before it…

Sanji stared at him in complete surprise when he had burst from the door. Now his brow was furrowed with annoyance.

"Stop! Stop!" He batted his hands away angrily, chagrined. "You crazy bastard! I _told_ you I won't let you come in here and _grope_ me as and when you please!"

"But…" He spluttered, surprised at the force Sanji had managed to muster to push him away, gesturing vaguely at the red that painted the floor.

Sanji blew out a trail of grey smoke, pointing to the pile of bones in the sink with his cigarette. "There was a wild boar at the edge of the forest just now and I killed it for meat." He cursed angrily. "That stupid pig had to bleed all over the deck as I took it in here. Got to clean it up before Usopp comes back and start nagging about it getting into the wood."

"But you…" This time he indicated to the messed up shirt, starting to feel more and more foolish with each passing second.

"It's a wild boar from an island in the Grandline." He snorted. "You think I could have carried it at arm's length?" He frowned critically at his shirt, an expression Zoro realized, with a sinking feeling, he had mistakenly read as a pained grimace earlier. "Damn, it's my best shirt too!"

"But…but…" Zoro floundered indignantly for something to say, finding none, he settled for an "Oh.".

Impending mortification was never pretty.

Sanji frowned quizzically at him. "Oi. What's with you? Charging in like that, asking all these weird questions…" He trailed off with a blink, understanding coming to his eyes. "Oh."

But Sanji's 'oh' wasn't quite like Zoro's 'oh'. It was laced with amusement, accompanied by a twitch of his lips which was quickly growing into an annoying smirk.

"Shut up." Zoro growled.

"You thought I was…that I was…" Sanji could go no further, fighting the laughter that was bubbling up his throat.

"Fine! I thought you were attacked and bleeding to death, alright?"

"My, my, Roronoa Zoro." Sanji grinned, his tone mocking. "Were you _worried_ about me?" He burst out laughing. "That look on your face…so anxious…so angry…"

"Shut up." He repeated but knew it was useless. He would rather Sanji get mad at him and kick him in the head for even thinking that he was unable to defend himself. That way, they would get into a very enjoyable quarrel and an even more satisfying fight.

But no, that bastard _always_ wanted to make things difficult for him.

Sanji was still laughing, seeming unable to stop, one hand slapping the kitchen counter, the other brushing at the blond hair getting into his eyes as he shook with laughter.

Righteous anger rose in him. He didn't have to stand around and be embarrassed like this.

"I hate you, you shitty cook!" He turned, about to stomp off when he felt Sanji catch his wrist, holding him back.

"Zoro, wait." His voice was quiet, the tone he knew the cook used only when he was serious. And when he turned around to look at him, he could see the small grateful smile on his lips and warm affection in his eyes, under the amused smirking expression.

"Thanks for caring. It was sweet." He said, leaning in and kissed him lightly on the lips.

_Sweet?_ The nerve of this man!

Roronoa Zoro was a lot of things but sweet was _definitely_ not one of them. The irritating bastard had just positively given him the worst possible insult and that was really something, considering all the other things he had called him before. He really hated the way he was always out to irritate and insult him.

"Hmph." He said sourly, scowling at the cook.

But-he thought as he slipped his arms around Sanji's slim waist, crushing the other man, blood soaked shirt and all gently against his chest, feeling a kind of delayed relief that his assumptions weren't true-sometimes it doesn't _bloody_ matter.


End file.
